It's a man's world (isn't it?)

The Magic Flute - Charles Court Opera - Wilton's Music Hall

My varied singing career saw me perform five roles in 'The Magic Flute': Tamino, Monostatos, The Speaker, Second Armed Man and Second Priest. I also sang in the chorus for productions at the ROH Covent Garden, Glyndebourne and Kent Opera. It was, in addition, one of the operas I saw performed by WNO during my school days in Cardiff (see my previous Blog 'Hi Fidelity') - the young Thomas Allen was Papageno. It is, therefore, an opera I know very well. One of the many merits of the Charles Court Opera production I attended at Wilton's Music Hall on 26th February was that I was encouraged to look at the opera with fresh eyes.

To begin with, there was no serpent to menace Tamino in the opening scene, in fact, if there was any menace, it might be said to have come from Tamino himself: a western interloper in an exotic Peruvian Garden of Eden. He is certainly viewed as dangerous by The Three Ladies who ensnare him in a net before realising he is a benign (and very handsome) explorer, who has stumbled into their realm. The relationship between men and women, or more pertinently man and woman, is, of course, at the very core of the story and there is no denying that what might have seemed perfectly acceptable and rational to an eighteenth century audience (women need men to guide them to wisdom) seems at best quaint and at worst profoundly insulting in the present day. This issue is thrown into the foreground by the fact that in this production the women seem to be the chief movers and shakers. This is heightened by the majority female cast and the lack of a male chorus to share Sarastro's patriarchal world view. in this context The Three Ladies emerged as far more central to the action than is usually the case; they doubled The Three Boys, and also did sterling work as puppeteers manipulating the rainforest birds, who were fascinated by Tamino's flute and helped to avert the potential suicides of Pamina and Papageno. They also gave very disturbing life to the grotesque Papagena puppet, which was a genuinely unsettling element of nightmare in Papageno's journey to his own personal enlightenment. The First Lady added to the feeling of sisterhood by transforming into Papageno's dreamgirl Papagena, with Pamina, no less, taking her place in this dynamic female trio. Against this, Sarasto's rather stuffy attitude to sexual politics struck a false note (his sententious spoken dialogue has never convinced me in any production I've seen) and this, allied to a Monostatos without menace and a notably feisty Queen of the Night (which was expected) and an even feistier Pamina (which was not) gave the production a distinctly feminist slant, which was refreshing and, as I indicate above, thought-provoking.

Musically too, there was much that was stimulating. As Tamino, Latvian tenor Martins Smaukstelis was taller, slimmer and more aristocratic looking than a good few undertaking this role and sang throughout with a very pleasing burnished tone. His Pamina, Alison Langer, gave a similarly distinguished performance, making light of the difficulties of her aria, and, as indicated, projecting a forceful character well able to stand up for herself - the magical flute was, after all, created by her father. As the Queen of the Night, Eleri Gwilym had a high old time of it: part punkette, part silent screen vamp, she 'tore a passion to tatters' and was fully up to the challenges of her two arias. She might have been the dark side of the sisterhood, but she was still a vital part of it. Peter Lidbetter was a granite voiced Sarastro (doubling the Speaker entirely plausibly), and showed admirable evenness of vocal emission throughout his range - low notes were satisfyingly sonorous. Monostatos, as a character, presents huge issues for the contemporary performer and his director. It is probably not possible to present him as 'a savage and deformed slave' but I do think he should be presented with some degree of menace. Joe Ashmore's very neat comic portrayal (think Kenneth Williams in the 'Carry On' films) ignored this aspect of the character. That is purely a matter of taste and I am certainly not criticising Mr Ashmore's overall achievement, indeed, as a fellow member of the Monostatos fraternity, I sympathised that part of his vocal allocation was given to Tamino to serve the needs of a slightly revamped finale to Act II.

As previously mentioned The Three Ladies, Sarah Prestwidge (also Papagena). Martha Jones and Meriel Cunningham (a Charles Court Opera stalwart) deserve particular individual and collective praise, but for me the standout performance was another CCO bastion, Matthew Kellett as Papageno. One of my companions at the performance mentioned to me in the interval that he found the male/female relationships in 'Flute' lacking the humanity of those in the da Ponte operas. This failing, if you agree it exists, was certainly rectified by Kellett, particularly in Act II - his Papageno was a touchingly vulnerable Everyman, a cousin to Estragon and Vladimir in 'Waiting for Godot'. He alone of the cast turned dialogue into natural everyday speech and his singing was an extension of that entirely human communication. His love for Papagena was a thing of flesh and blood, even if Tamino and Pamina remained, for me at least, noble, but rather cold figures from an eighteenth century pastoral.

As seems inevitable in CCO productions, Musical Director David Eaton conjured wonders at the piano. His English translation, (with John Savournin) was delightful, and projected with exemplary clarity by the entire cast. Revival Director James Hurley (original production John Savournin), and Revival Designer Lucy Fowler (original designer Simon Bejer) did sterling work. All in all this is a superb company achievement - go, while there is still time!!